


This is me trying

by HopeSilverheart



Series: Loving Em at 2AM [75]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Introspection, Jackson & Isaac love each other a lot, Jackson Whittemore gets better, Jackson Whittemore has feelings, Light Angst, M/M, Social Worker Jackson Whittemore, Therapist Isaac Lahey, This is just an ode to Jackson and Emily, very little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25813075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeSilverheart/pseuds/HopeSilverheart
Summary: “You have so much potential, Jackson, you just need to stop worrying about your image so much and start doing what you do best instead.”“And what’s that?” Jackson asked, hoping he didn’t sound half as vulnerable and unsure as he felt.“Helping people,” Isaac answered, kissing Jackson sweetly and taking all the tension out of his shoulders. “You’re a good man, Jackson Whittemore, you just have to start believing it.”Or: Jackson doesn't start off as the world's best social worker, but he'll get there eventually.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Kira Yukimura, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey/Jackson Whittemore, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Loving Em at 2AM [75]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764400
Kudos: 31





	This is me trying

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thatnerdemryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatnerdemryn/gifts).



After one month of working for the Department of Children, Youths, and their Families – the freaking DCYF – Jackson was ready to call it quits.

He had tried his best to fit in, to do his job correctly and provide help for the children out there who were struggling. He _wanted_ to help them, he really did, but it seemed that no matter how heard he tried, he was doomed to fail. He wasn’t cut out for human interactions, and even less so for taking reports from sometimes distraught people.

He was too abrupt, too quick to judge, too used to getting his way, and on top of that, a frankly terrible listener. When he had first gotten the job, he had thought he would manage just fine. He had trained for this, knowing very well that he wasn’t quite ready to go out on the field, and he had been so sure that he would do well.

His friends had been behind him, reminding him that no matter how difficult he had been when he was younger, he really _had_ gotten better with time. More importantly, Isaac had been behind him every step of the way, telling him that they would achieve their goals together, getting over their childhood traumas and helping others along the way.

It had sounded perfect, in theory. Isaac would start working as a child therapist, finally using all his empathy for the sake of others, and Jackson would help children get out of bad homes, actively working against abuse and neglect. It had sounded like a dream, and the thought of one day getting to help children was the only reason Jackson had made it through college.

Now, though, he felt like it had all been for nothing.

He hated taking calls, and he hated sitting at a desk all day, and he couldn’t stand his gossiping co-workers, no matter how kind they were. Isaac was thriving at his new job, and Jackson was stuck in this mindless work space in which he felt stifled and unable to truly _help_ the way he had thought he would.

Sure, taking reports was the first step in getting a child out of a bad situation, but Jackson wasn’t meant for it. He got antsy when he had to sit still for too long, and he didn’t know how to handle reporters when they got on his nerves. He had been told off for snapping at callers more than once, and he knew his supervisors were starting to lose their patience with him.

And so he was miserable, sulking through his and Isaac’s apartment in search of something to cheer him up whilst he waited for his fiancé to make it home. Isaac always knew how to make him feel better, but Jackson had already been on the verge of tears for an hour and a half, and he really didn’t want to have to wait two more before being able to smile again.

He was feeling dangerously close to quitting again – it had already happened four times in the past month – and although a part of him wanted to throw in the towel, he knew he couldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to handle Isaac’s disappointment, or his parents’ knowing glances, or even his friends’ pity.

He didn’t need to quit, he needed to get _better._

If only it were that easy.

In the end, he did the same thing he had done the past four times he had had a similar breakdown. He opened his laptop and switched to the Word document in which he kept all the cases he had managed to help move along ever since he had joined the DCYF.

There weren’t many, certainly not as many as he wished there were, but they were the only thing keeping him going, so he tried very hard not to think about how bad of a job he had been doing so far. Instead, he remembered little Chloe and her frantic half-sister who had called Jackson and reported severe neglect from the girl’s father, and he remembered how _good_ it had felt to get her relocated to a better home.

He remembered the couple who had reminded Jackson so much of his parents that he had had to take a minute to breathe deeply whilst they were talking. He remembered their concern, the love they had for their niece and how emotional they had been when Jackson had promised them he would do his best to help.

He went over the list as slowly as possible, gritting his teeth as he was once again reminded of how badly he had handled half of these cases. He could distinctly remember almost yelling at one of the reporters, and he knew he had done a shoddy job at filling in at least two of the reports. The cases had ended well, but Jackson knew he wasn’t the one who should be taking the merit for the successes.

“Jackson?”

He slammed his laptop shut and rubbed frantically at his eyes at the sound of Isaac’s voice. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin his fiancé’s day with his problems. Isaac’s job was just as hard as his – if not more – and one of their main rules was that they tried to keep their work lives separate from their personal lives. Sure, they comforted each other after a particularly bad day, but this hardly counted as a _bad_ day.

It was just Jackson overreacting and worrying about his job again. Isaac hadn’t said anything, but Jackson suspected that his fiancé was tired of hearing him complain over and over again about something he should have control over.

“I’m in here!” He called out, sitting up straighter on the couch and hurriedly turning on the TV, desperate for a distraction. “Welcome home, did you have a nice day?”

“As good as my days can be when I’m dealing with traumatised children,” Isaac sighed, leaning over to press his lips to Jackson’s and throwing himself onto the sofa next to the shorter man. “But it was alright. A few of them are making steady progress, and the parents well all in relatively good moods, so I’m going to count it as a win. I’m very glad the week-end is upon us, though.”

“Yeah, so am I,” Jackson sighed, leaning into Isaac’s warmth. “Do you want to go on a date this week-end? We could do a double with Stiles and Derek, I know you’ve been wanting to see them ever since they got back from their honeymoon. I need something to take my mind off work, and no one is better at that than Stilinski.”

“Stilinski-Hale,” Isaac corrected, poking Jackson in the ribs. “But why do you need a distraction? Did you have another bad day at work?”

“More like bad week,” Jackson mumbled. “Hell, maybe even a bad month at this point. I just- Never mind, why don’t we enjoy this stupid show, call the boys to organise something, and take advantage of the time we have together, alright? My work problems can wait another two days.”

“Jax…” Isaac whispered, muting the TV and grabbing Jackson’s chin gently, tipping it up until their gazes met. “Hey, I know you’ve been a hard time with this job, and I know you feel bad for your slightly shitty moods, but you don’t have to hide it from _me_.”

“I’m not the only one with a tough job,” Jackson huffed annoyedly. “I should be able to deal with it as well as you do, instead of getting worse and worse as the days pass. Shouldn’t I- Shouldn’t I be over this by now? Shouldn’t I be better? Shouldn’t I have gotten used to taking reports and talking to people and making small talk with my colleagues?”

“You’ve only been at it for a month,” Isaac murmured, caressing Jackson’s cheek delicately and letting their foreheads rest against each other. “Cut yourself some slack. I’m sure you’ll get better at it. And if you don’t, you can always move onto another job, alright? I know you don’t think you’re ready for field work, but I still believe you would be _amazing_ out there. The children would love you.”

“If I can’t deal with parents and teachers and concerned grandparents, I hardly think I can handle the kids themselves,” Jackson rolled his eyes, although he didn’t pull away from his fiancé, no matter how ridiculous the man was acting. “Just… Do you ever think I made a mistake, going into social work? Maybe I should have followed my parents’ advice and gone into sports, at least then I wouldn’t have to deal with people all the time.”

“You would have wasted all your potential if you had become an athlete,” Isaac scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head as he leaned away from Jackson. “You had your time as a lacrosse player back in high school and as a football player in high school, but we both know that wasn’t what you were meant to do with your life. You’re a fantastic social worker, Jax, whether you see it yet or not. Just because you’re having a hard time right now doesn’t mean you’ll have a hard time forever.”

He knew Isaac had a point. He knew Derek had struggled just as much when he had first started teaching, often telling them that he was reconsidering all his life choices. He knew Stiles questioned his decision to go for a PhD almost every single day, and he knew almost all their friends had thought about quitting at least once in their lives.

But it was one thing to know it, and another to live through it.

“I just want to be _good_ , Isaac,” he whispered brokenly, biting down on his bottom lip as a tear rolled down his cheek. “I want to help people, and I want to make sure these kids are safe, but I feel like I’m not doing any of that. I feel like I’m making things worse, and I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the department fired me at the end of next month.”

“They’d be stupid to fire you,” Isaac frowned. “You have so much potential, Jackson, you just need to stop worrying about your image so much and start doing what you do best instead.”

“And what’s that?” Jackson asked, hoping he didn’t sound half as vulnerable and unsure as he felt.

“Helping people,” Isaac answered, kissing Jackson sweetly and taking all the tension out of his shoulders. “You’re a good man, Jackson Whittemore, you just have to start believing it.”

And maybe he would. Maybe someday, he would start believing in himself the same way Isaac believed in him. For now, though, he would just kiss his fiancé some more and soak in his happiness as he tried to find his own.

* * *

He switched to field work less than two months later.

Isaac had been right, as always, and Jackson had gotten sick of working a desk job. He couldn’t even say that it had been fun while it lasted, because it really – _really_ – hadn’t been. Telling his supervisors that he was quitting had been one of the best moments in his life. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt as free as he had in that moment.

Unfortunately, after a month of working in the field, he realised he wasn’t much better at it than he had been at taking reports. Sure, he no longer snapped at callers, and he was better at handling crappy parents in person than he was in theory, but he was still short-tempered and struggled with the more difficult cases, and he wasn’t doing as well mentally as he would have liked.

Seeing the horrors that some guardians inflicted on children was a painful experience, no matter how much time passed. He had no idea how Isaac dealt with it, hearing about abuse stories and dealing with children who didn’t want to leave their guardians, no matter how bad their situations had been. It made him want to scream at the injustice of the world, and it made him want to shake these guardians _hard_ to make them realise how idiotic they had been.

Needless to say, it was only a matter of time before Jackson starting coming home in a foul moods, cursing his career and wondering if he would be better off doing something else. Maybe he could become a bartender; surely it would be a lot easier than dealing with parents and children and co-workers whose views sometimes clashed horribly with Jackson’s.

Isaac was even more understanding now that Jackson was working in direct contact with the children he was helping, but even his fiancé had his limits. Or more specifically, their friends had their limits.

It was one thing for Jackson to snap and brood when Isaac and he were alone, because he could always make it up to the blond man at a later date, but it was another to act like an angsty teenager when their friends were around. Stiles, Derek, Kira, Allison, Isaac and Jackson had a long-standing monthly dinner date schedule, and cancelling was absolutely off the table.

Which meant that when the time came for Jackson and Isaac to head out to Kira and Allison’s house after a long day at work, Jackson felt like a mental wreck. If they had been at home, he would have already been curled up underneath his blankets with Isaac cuddled close to him. Instead, he had to hold back his frustration over a particularly hard case at work and try to make Isaac believe he was alright.

“Do you think Kira finally popped the question?” Isaac asked him as they walked up the girls’ driveway and towards the front door. “It’s been what, five months since she first talked to us about it? You’d think she would have managed to work up the courage to do it by now, but I doubt it’ll ever happen.”

“Allison’s going to end up doing it,” Jackson snorted, swallowing down all his bitter emotions and plastering a smirk on his face. “We both know Kira is too nervous to do it, but I’m also pretty sure Allison has been waiting for her to propose for two months, and it’s only a matter of time before she takes charge.”

“Hmm, have I ever told you how glad I am that you were brave enough to take care of the proposal?” Isaac asked him, smiling softly at him. “Because I think it might have taken me years to get to a place in my life where I felt comfortable enough to take that step.”

“One of us had to do it,” Jackson shrugged, squeezing Isaac’s hand tightly in a silent show of love. He wasn’t great at talking about his feelings out loud, but he was trying to be better at it for Isaac, and he knew his fiancé appreciated any and all of his efforts.

“Jackson! Isaac!”

The door swung open seconds before they were assaulted by two bodies and a tangle of limbs, dark hair, and wandering hands. It had only been a month since they had last seen Allison and Kira, but the women always liked to act as though it had been _years_.

“We’ve missed you,” Allison smiled as they pulled away and led them into the house. “Stiles and Derek are already here, unsurprisingly, so we’re all ready to get started on dinner. We’re apparently celebrating a major breakthrough in Stiles’ thesis, so the boys brought cake.”

“Nice,” Isaac grinned. “How’s _your_ thesis going, Ally?”

“Ugh, let’s not talk about it,” the brunette groaned, burying her face in her girlfriend’s neck. “I swear it’s only getting worse. I know I’ll get to where I want to be eventually, but it’s taking far longer than I would want it to. How are the two of you managing with your jobs?”

“Same old,” Isaac shrugged. “It’s never easy, but I think I’m finally getting the hang of it. The kids are all starting to get used to me, so they’re opening up a lot more than they did at first. It’s really rewarding, even if it means I have a lot more information to process and a lot more problems to deal with.”

“I’m sure you’re doing a great job at it,” Kira smiled brightly. “You’ve always been a great listener, and I don’t doubt that your patients love you. What about you, Jackson? How’s the new job on the field treating you? I know you were looking forward to it last time we talked, so is it going well?”

“It’s fine,” Jackson answered, hating how frustrated he sounded, even to his own ears. “I mean, it’s a lot of work and it’s definitely not easy, but I like it more than I did my old job, so I suppose it’s progress.”

“Better than nothing,” Allison agreed. “But don’t worry about it too much, Jackson, I’m sure things will get better eventually.”

Once upon a time, Jackson would have appreciated their platitudes. Now, though, they only made him feel worse about himself and his job. Everyone had been telling him it would ‘get better’ for _months_ , and yet things had been stuck in a terrible limbo ever since he had started working. He knew his friends were just trying to be kind, trying to remind him the world couldn’t remain bleak forever, but it was hard to remember that when he was doing such a shoddy job on the professional side of things.

The only thing keeping him sane was Isaac, and these occasional dinners with their friends, so he really didn’t want to ruin the mood with his work problems.

“Lahey! Whittemore!” Stiles exclaimed happily, jumping up from his seat and wrapping both men up in his arms, completely ignoring Jackson’s warning glare. “Damn, you guys look good.”

No matter how much Jackson liked to pretend as though he and Stiles still didn’t get along, everyone knew they were the closest friends out of the whole group. They had resolved all of their high school issues whilst they were rooming together during their undergraduate days, and now knew each other better than anyone else – including Derek and Isaac.

Sure, they still bickered and got on each other’s nerves, but Stiles was the only one who knew how to lift Jackson’s mood when he was having a bad day with his parents, and he was frankly the best friend Jackson could have asked for. Which was why he _really_ didn’t want to ruin this night; Stiles was clearly doing great with his thesis, and he had recently gotten married, and the last thing he needed was Jackson and his bad moods to bring down the relaxed atmosphere.

“I hear you’ve been doing a significantly better job at keeping your thesis together, Stilinski,” Jackson patted his friend on the back. “I have to say, I was starting to doubt your writing abilities, but I’m glad you figured your shit out. Married life has done wonders for you, clearly.”

“That and an amazing sex life,” Stiles winked, kissing the top of his husband’s head and ignoring Derek’s mutinous glare. “So, let’s get this party started! I want all the champagne you can find, Kira’s glorious food, and all my best friends around this table.”

“All the champagne we can find will have to be half a bottle we opened last week,” Kira grimaced apologetically, gesturing towards Allison and the bottle in her hands. “However, my glorious food is right here, ready to be devoured by you _wolves_. I made my lasagne, so you’d better appreciate the effort and remember it when the time comes for us to celebrate something on my end.”

“When that happens is solely up to you, of course,” Derek smirked, not even flinching under the intensity of Kira and Allison’s combined glares. It was quite sweet to see the two women so in sync, both knowing they were talking about the proposal even though it hadn’t happened yet. “But yes, we’ll try to remember this and cook you something almost as amazing. Nothing could _quite_ live up to your lasagne, though.”

“Flatterer,” Kira rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she spoke and it wasn’t hard to see how pleased she was by Derek’s words.

“So, Whittemore, how’s the field work treating you?” Stiles asked, clapping his hands over his mouth when three pairs of eyes turned towards him in warning. Jackson rolled his eyes at Isaac, Allison, and Kira’s protective natures even as his heart warmed. “Right, sorry.”

“It’s cool,” Jackson shrugged. “It’s not your fault I’m terrible at my job and can’t- Hey, no, don’t look at me like that. Tonight isn’t about me and my problems, it’s about _you_ and all the things you’ve accomplished. I’m sorry for even bringing it up, I’d promised myself I wouldn’t and now I did and just- Let’s go back to talking about Stiles, alright?”

“Jax…” Isaac started, cutting himself off when Jackson turned to stare at him pleadingly, helping himself to some of the lasagne and hoping some of the awkward tension would melt away if he ignored it long enough.

“You’re not terrible at your job,” Allison said insistently. “You’re just taking some time to get adjusted. Being a social worker isn’t easy, Jackson, especially not for someone who has to deal with some…”

“Especially for someone who has a history with childhood trauma, both on his end _and_ his fiancé’s,” Stiles finished for her when she stopped halfway through her sentence. “It’s never fun to see children getting hurt, and it’s completely okay for you to take a while to get used to your job. You may not feel a connection with anything quite yet, but I’m sure you’ll find it soon enough.”

And with that, everyone moved onto another topic, leaving Jackson to stare gratefully at the man who had somehow become his best friend, hope welling inside his heart even though he knew it would go away sooner rather than later.

It was fine though, he would enjoy it while it lasted, just as he would enjoy his friends’ steady presence in his life.

* * *

As much as Jackson hated to admit it, Stiles turned out to be right.

It took another two months of working semi-reluctantly on the field, questioning his profession at least once a week and letting Isaac soothe him over and over again, but he finally found the connection he had been looking for.

The thing was Jackson _had_ slowly started getting better at his job. He had learned to be more patient, more understanding, to listen first and talk second, to ask the right questions at the right time… He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but his boss had approached him one day and told him she was proud of him for all the work he had put in and how much he had improved.

Still, Jackson felt like something was missing. He still didn’t feel like he was really good at his job, because he felt like he was doing it reluctantly. He was supposed to love being a social worker, to help people and give children the home they deserved. It was supposed to be the most rewarding thing he had ever done, but instead… Instead he felt like an imposter who didn’t quite fit in, who liked what he did but didn’t _love_ it, who helped as best as he could but never really got involved.

His friends repeatedly told him that it was only a matter of time before he found the case that resonated with him more deeply and made him realise that this was what he was meant to do. Isaac was particularly helpful, reminding him that it had taken him just as long to find the patient who made him feel really connected to his work.

And just when Jackson had started to think that he wouldn’t find that same connection, he met Lindsay and James.

The two of them were neighbours – lived across the street from one another – and went to the same high school. They had never really talked, barely even knew each other, but they had been living on the same street for long enough to know a little about each other’s lives.

Which was where Jackson came in.

It turned out that James’ father was an abusive dick who couldn’t have cared less about his son’s welfare. Jackson had found things in the attic that had absolutely _nothing_ to do in a family home and had almost made him throw up at the mere thought of what must have happened to James in there.

And Lindsay? Lindsay had never said anything. As far as Jackson could tell, she had been aware of what was going on but had decided to stay quiet, not sure that it was any of her business. It was a weak excuse and they both knew it, but Jackson hadn’t pushed from the get-go.

However, he wasn’t a fool. He had noticed the similarities between James’ story and Isaac’s story from the very start, and had done his very best to push his fiancé to the back of his mind as he talked to the children, the parents, as well as the person who had reported the abuse in the first place.

His heart had almost broken when he had talked to James, but he had tried to stay as strong as possible when the boy told him about the abuse he had suffered at the hands of his dad, and quietly asked Jackson if things were going to change now. And for the first time since he had started working on the field – since he had started working as a social worker, honestly – Jackson found himself holding back tears.

It shouldn’t have felt like such a victory, because most of his colleagues told him crying was one of the worse things a social worker could do on the field, but Jackson had been struggling to form a connection with his job for so long, and now… Now he was starting to get it.

So, without further ado, he patted James’ shoulder softly, taking care not to spook the boy, and promised him they would do everything in their power to make sure James got to enjoy the rest of his teenage years with a loving family.

“There are people out there who are going to adore you, James,” he murmured, smiling sadly when the boy only curled in on himself and nodded shyly, clearly not quite believing Jackson’s words. “In fact, I’m sure there are people who already adore you and just need a little push in the right direction.”

Seconds later, he was crossing the street to where Lindsay was waiting, sitting on her front porch and staring at her parents from afar. The couple was talking to a pair of police officers, and Jackson knew they would be busy for at least another half hour, which gave him plenty of time to talk to the pre-teen.

He didn’t have a lot of experience with young girls who had just had to see their neighbour get arrested whilst one of their classmates sobbed on the side. However, he _did_ have a lot of experience with himself and the terrible way he had handled things with Isaac had first, so he didn’t think he was completely unqualified for the job.

“Hey, Lindsay,” he said, sitting down next to the girl and ignoring the dirty look she shot him. God save him from overdramatic teenagers and their inability to deal with their feelings. He had had plenty of it back when he was her age, and it had been more than enough for a lifetime. “How are you holding up?”

“Nothing happened to _me_ ,” Lindsay rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I’m the one who got beaten up by my father.”

“No,” Jackson agreed with a small shrug. “But you are the one who was living right across the street and never did anything about it. I’m not- I’m _not_ accusing you, Lindsay, but I know how that kind of guilt can eat a person from the inside out if you’re not careful enough. Believe me, I know.”

“What? Have _you_ had to deal with a neighbour getting beaten up right under your nose?” Lindsay scoffed, as though the mere idea was unimaginable. “Because I’m pretty sure a social worker like you would have done something about it if this had happened to your neighbour.”

“I wasn’t always a social worker,” Jackson pointed out, looking down at his eyes and trying to push away the lingering guilt that lived in his heart. Now that he worked with children and abuse on a daily basis, he couldn’t believe how stupid he had been as a child. How had he _not_ noticed how much Isaac was suffering? Why had he not said anything? He had known something had been wrong in that household, and he hadn’t done anything. “So yes, I did go through what you did. My fiancé, Isaac, went through something quite like what James did, and I didn’t say a thing to anyone.”

“You…” Lindsay started, glancing at him with a mixture of hope and worry. “You didn’t? But why- I mean, how-”

“Sometimes when we’re afraid of the truth, when we don’t want to admit that something could be truly wrong, we ignore it,” Jackson answered softly. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t be better from now on. It doesn’t mean you can’t give James the support system he so desperately needs, and it definitely doesn’t mean that you’re a bad person. It might feel like it sometimes, but you’re just a kid.”

“I’m not…” Lindsay started, then huffed as she realised Jackson was trying to defend her. “I should have said something. Or I should have… I should have stayed with him at school, asked him if he was alright when I noticed all the bruises, should have made sure he had friends. He’s always- He’s always been a sweet guy, even though I don’t know him very well. He brings cakes, always says hello in the morning, and partners up with me for lab when my friends aren’t around.”

“Sounds like the two of you could be good friends if you tried a little bit harder,” Jackson said, smiling encouragingly at Lindsay. “James is going to need people around to look after him, and he might feel better if he has a familiar face nearby.”

“Is that… Is that what you did? With your neighbour?” Lindsay inquired quietly. “Did it work?”

“It isn’t what I did, actually,” Jackson sighed, wincing internally at how stupid he had been as a teenager. “I continued being a jerk and ignoring everyone’s problems but my own. In my defence, I suppose I was also dealing with my own family drama, but still… Isaac became friends with a bunch of people from school, and we only started hanging out years later. And now I’m going to marry him, not that it’s particularly relevant to your story.”

“He loves you even though you ignored his pain?”

The question hurt more than Jackson cared to admit, but instead of drowning in the sadness he so often felt when he thought about Isaac’s childhood, he thought about all the ways in which he could help Lindsay and James because of what he had gone through.

He thought about Isaac, who had told him he had never hated Jackson for forgetting about him, who had told him he was _thankful_ for what Jackson had done in the end. He thought about himself and the years of self-loathing he had lived through because of his inaction. He thought of all of that, and he smiled at Lindsay.

“I have no idea why, but he does,” he told her. “He does, and he forgave me, and he never resented me for not intervening earlier. James won’t either, even though you should definitely grovel a little and make sure he knows you appreciate him and all of that. If you want to be his friend, that is.”

“I… Yeah,” Lindsay muttered, glancing over at James. “Yeah, I think I might want to be his friend. Do you really think he’ll let me talk to him?”

“Well I don’t know, why don’t you try?” Jackson raised his eyebrows and waved in James’ direction. “At the end of the day, the only people who matter are you and James. He’s going to have to talk about a lot of things he doesn’t want to remember with a lot of people, so he’ll probably need a friend. And I’m willing to bet that he wouldn’t mind having _you_ as that friend. So, just try.”

“Okay,” Lindsay nodded once, a second time slightly more decisively, and then she was striding towards James as confidently as she could, her legs trembling but her face a mask of pure determination.

Jackson’s heart swelled at the sight, and he suddenly realised he was exactly where he was supposed to be. He still had a long way to go before he became a truly competent social worker, but now that he had seen what he could do for people like James – people like _Isaac_ – he knew he would be trying even harder.

And that night, he went home to his fiancé, embraced him from behind, and it didn’t let him go for a very long time.

“I love you,” he whispered into the hug. “Thank you for loving me too, even when I was a jackass.”

“Anytime, Jax,” Isaac murmured. “Bad day at work?”

“In a way,” Jackson replied, because abuse never made for the best days. “But I think… I think it was also the best day I’ve had in a very long time. I’m a freaking _social worker_ , baby.”

“Yeah,” Isaac smiled, kissing Jackson sweetly. “Yes you are.”

**Author's Note:**

> Heya guys! Thank you so much for reading! I was going to write some shadowhunter fluff today, but Em got me thinking about Jackson as a social worker and how he would eventually grow to become a better man, and this happened instead! I loved writing him, and I loved the Jackson/Isaac relationship, so I hope you all did too! As always, this fic isn't edited/beta'ed, so excuse any mistakes ^^
> 
> Love, Junie. 
> 
> (find me on [tumblr](https://hopesilverheart.tumblr.com/))


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